


Grumpy Cat

by three_coffee_spoons



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 01:59:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18511609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/three_coffee_spoons/pseuds/three_coffee_spoons
Summary: Based on the prompt “I’m bulletproof…but please, don’t shoot me.”





	Grumpy Cat

If there was a boyfriend of the year award, Rafael would definitely be a contender. Tonight, in fact, would have put him in the lead.

To be fair, you had warned him. You had warned him that your best friend from university was coming to the city and insisted on a girls’ night out. You had warned him that her exact wording had been ‘a night to relive our college days even though our livers may not survive’. You had even warned him about the different drunk versions of yourself, stressing that it would be best for everyone if Seven-drink You did not make an appearance due to her inflated, but highly unfounded, opinion of her karaoke ability.

He should have known that you weren’t kidding when you stocked the fridge with coconut water, and placed Advil and a takeout menu from the greasy spoon around the corner on your bedside table.

It, therefore, shouldn’t have surprised him to hear your slurred voice on the other end of the phone in the early hours of the morning insisting that he come meet you and your friend at the current stop of your Manhattan bar hopping tour. Judging by the sound of someone’s tone-deaf performance of Don’t Stop Believing in the background, he was certain that Seven-drink You would soon be making an appearance.

After an exasperating few minutes consisting of Rafael trying to get the name of the bar from you (“Rafi, it has a neon sign and I think Journey are here and it has popcorn and it’s in Manhattan”) and then successfully instructing drunk you on how to send him your location with your phone, he was on his way. 

Rafael arrived at the karaoke bar halfway through your off-key, but extremely enthusiastic, rendition of Titanium by David Guetta. He watched with amusement, smiling at your ridiculous dance moves. The second you noticed him, you beamed at him and stopped singing to excitedly announce to everyone in the bar that he was your boyfriend.

After boisterous drunken applause, including an impressive whistle from Rafael, you made your way off of the small stage and over to the table where Rafael and your friend were sitting.

“Rafi!” You put your arms around his neck.

“Finally! Now we can have some fun!” Your friend shouted to be heard over a group of Wall Street workers butchering I Want It That Way. “Before, it was all, ‘I miss Rafi’ and ‘I wish Rafi was here’!”

You nodded, letting go of Rafael’s neck to sit on the stool next to him. You must have misestimated where the seat was because, while the stool was nowhere in sight, the floor was definitely getting closer. Clearly, Seven-drink You had been replaced with Eight-drink You (aka the one who was as graceful as Bambi walking on ice).

Rafael’s strong arms reached out and grabbed you before you hit the floor.

“Are you okay, cariño?” Rafael questioned as he helped you onto the stool. He continued to keep an arm around your waist as a precaution.

“I’m fine, Rafi! You want to know why?” You squished Rafael’s cheeks with your hands and leaned towards him so that your foreheads were almost touching. You looked as if you were about to tell him one of your deepest secrets.

“I’m bulletproof,” You sang at full volume. You paused, still holding Rafael’s cheeks, before quietly adding, “…But please, don’t shoot me.”

“We’ll see how bulletproof you feel tomorrow, cariño. It’s time to get you both home.”

“We don’t want to go! We want to do shots!” Your friend protested.

“Yeah! Shots!” You echoed.

“We didn’t even have a lot to drink,” Your friend added.

“I find that hard to believe,” Rafael smirked.

“It’s true, Rafi! We’ve only had…” You trailed off, stumped. You began silently counting the number of drinks on your fingers with a perplexed expression on your face. You quickly ran out of fingers to count on and grabbed one of Rafael’s hands to continue your calculations. 

“More than two!” You confidently announced.

“Right. I think you’ve both had enough.”

You and your friend continued to protest until Rafael held up a hand.

“One more round of shots and then we go home.”

“Five more rounds,” You countered.

“One.” Rafael repeated.

“Four.”

“One.”

“Three.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“One.”

Rafael laughed. “Okay, one. You drive a hard bargain, cariño.”

“It’s because I’m dating the best lawyer in New York,” You grinned. You went to kiss his cheek, but missed and kissed the top of his ear instead.

“Maybe your hotshot boyfriend can pay for the next round, then?” Your friend cheerfully suggested from across the table.

“Fine, but remember: one shot each and then home.”

Rafael retrieved a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to your friend. However, instead of grabbing the crisp twenty, your friend quickly snatched his whole wallet, leaving a stunned Rafael with the twenty dollars in his still outstretched hand.

“Shots for everyone on Raf!” She declared, walking over to the bar and holding Rafael’s wallet aloft.

Rafael’s protests were barely perceptible over the commotion of everyone in the bar cheering.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled into Rafael’s shoulder. “She used to do that in university. Her nickname was Swiper and we’d always yell ‘Swiper, no swiping!’ whenever she did that to some guy.”

“It’s fine,” Rafael pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should have specified that one shot each applied only to you and her.”

“I’ll pay you back for the drinks,” You promised, leaning into Rafael and putting your arm around his waist.

“Thank you, but don’t worry about it, cariño.” He kissed the top of your head.

Your friend arrived back at the table carrying three shots, presumably hoping that Rafael would be more forgiving once he had some alcohol in his system. She smiled sweetly as she handed Rafael his wallet.

“You’re right!” She turned to you. “Raf does look like Grumpy Cat when he’s upset!”

You nodded sagely as Rafael rolled his eyes.

One round of shots, a lengthy argument about how dogs would wear pants, more protests about leaving from your friend, pats on the back and high-fives for Rafael from the whole bar, and several close calls with getting drenched with alcohol and various bodily fluids later, Rafael had successfully herded you and your friend into a taxi. He was squished between the two of you, but still considered it a victory. You two could drop your friend off at her hotel and make it back to your shared apartment in less than an hour if there were no issues.

Rafael turned to your friend. “What hotel are you staying at?”

Your friend scrunched up her face in concentration.

“The one from Home Alone 2.”

Rafael looked at you for clarification, but you were nuzzled against his shoulder snoring lightly. It was Nine-drink You (aka the sleepy one)’s time to shine.

“Or maybe it’s the one in The Godfather…”

Rafael and the taxi driver shared a look.

“The Godfather Part Three,” Your friend added as if that would clear up any confusion.

“You can stay at our place tonight,” Rafael sighed, giving the driver the address.

“Yay! Sleepover!” Your friend squealed with delight.

The ride continued with your friend barely pausing for breath as she listed all of the things she wanted to do at your apartment while Rafael rubbed his temples. Clearly, using an indoor voice was not something at which inebriated people excelled. Rafael’s poor ears received a blissful nanosecond of relief when the list suddenly halted.

“Stop!” Your friend ordered the taxi driver. “Stop! We passed a pizza place!”

The taxi driver looked in the rear view mirror for confirmation from Rafael. Rafael sighed, nodded to the driver, and handed your friend some cash keeping a firm grasp on his wallet this time. You were still asleep, nestled under Rafael’s arm, but he thought he heard you murmur the word ‘pizza’.

Your friend emerged from the restaurant ten minutes later with the largest pizza box Rafael had ever seen. As she was getting into the cab, she accidentally jabbed Rafael in the head with one of its corners. She cheerfully offered a slice to everyone in the car, oblivious to Rafael’s glare. His only solace was the fact that your friend was too busy eating to prattle on about her list of sleepover activities at an ear-splitting volume. 

Contrary to what Rafael thought, the night’s earlier events did not prepare him for the level of patience, strength, and bribery he would need to get you and your friend out of the cab and into your apartment. Even the taxi driver had wished him luck before pulling away from the curb. 

The journey up to the apartment began with the disapproving glare of the night doorman as your friend vomited into a potted plant in your apartment building’s lobby and ended with Rafael trying to unlock the apartment door while you were clinging to him like a koala and your friend was attempting to feed him a slice of pizza.

The sense of relief Rafael felt as he crossed the threshold of the apartment was akin to how mountain climbers feel when they finally reach the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro. He told your friend to make herself comfortable as he took you to the bedroom and tucked you into bed.

When Rafael returned to the living room a few minutes later, he found your friend passed out on the couch, clutching the empty pizza box to her chest and loudly snoring. He placed a blanket over her before putting a trashcan beside the couch and a can of coconut water on the coffee table.

Quietly making his way back into the bedroom, he placed a can of coconut water on your nightstand as well before getting ready for bed.

“Thanks for taking care of us tonight, Rafi,” You sleepily mumbled as you felt him climb into bed beside you. “You’re the best.”

“Anytime, cariño. Te amo.”

“I love you, too, Rafi, even though you look like Grumpy Cat sometimes.”

“I do not loo-“ Rafael began to object, but you pressed your fingers to his lips.

“You do,” You replied, clumsily patting his cheek. “But you’re my Grumpy cat.”


End file.
